


Forever

by fortheloveoflestrade



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: I'm so sorry, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, fluff and then angst, the end of this will make you hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:10:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveoflestrade/pseuds/fortheloveoflestrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Can we stay like this forever?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

“What are you doing down there?” he asks.

“I can feel the veins in your foot,” John murmurs back to him.

He had just noticed them. Three parallel veins, just below and a little to the left of the ball of his left foot. They were very prominent when Sherlock flexed his arches. John silently wondered if the same was true of his other foot, the right one.

Sherlock chuckles, then sighs deeply when John runs a finger over the spot in question.

He gently taps the bed beside Sherlock’s foot, and Sherlock unfolds his right leg for John.

Sherlock observes John in his both methodical and enraptured examination, flexing even before John can ask.

John finds only one (of three visible veins) just as prominent as the three on the left foot, and slightly lower. He cannot explain why this makes him so curious. Maybe because he’s a doctor, but more likely because it’s just one more thing to know about Sherlock Holmes.

John is suddenly aware of Sherlock’s eyes on him, and looks up self-consciously.

Sherlock is indeed staring at him intently, with a small smile. His hands are folded over the sheet pooling in his lap, a white river of linen that flows directly to John and wraps around his waist and upper thighs. The river shifts and relandscapes as John moves up toward Sherlock.

“I suppose we should probably arise and begin the day,” Sherlock says. He does not sound keen on the prospect, and John knows he only voices this for his benefit (or so when John recommends that they stay in bed a few minutes longer, John cannot later blame him for the late start).

John, at this moment, has no intention of rising. “Not yet,” he whispers, leaning his chin against his partner’s shoulder.

Sherlock’s fingers untangle from each other and he brings one hand up to stroke John’s jawline.

“Can we stay like this forever?” John asks, quietly and with his eyes closed.

“Forever,” Sherlock promises.

 

John wakes in a cold sweat, and even as he sits up the dream-laden memory of Sherlock is still just fading from his mind.

“Forever,” Sherlock had promised.

“You lied,” John whimpers to the empty room, curling his arms around his chest and sinking back down to the pillow.


End file.
